Saturday, February 5, 2011

February 6, 2011

This afternoon I went to my Cannibals Anonymous group therapy session. I've been going ever since the Judge ordered me to attend them, as part of my plea bargain, and they are of some help. It's become quite clear to me now that the whole program is designed not so much to erase one's lust for flesh, but to simply repress it so that it can be replaced by a more socially acceptable addiction, such as alcohol, barbiturates or wax sculptures. They still force me, along with everyone else who attends, to wear a muzzle; my lawyer has notified me that he is working to have an exemption put in place. I don't hold much hope for this to happen, as the local news reported that he was last spotted wandering down towards the piers, acting extremely erratic and yelling about lawn gnomes.

Lawn gnomes! They're everywhere! They have taken the fount from the bird faction. Ten thousand deaths amongst them in the battle, and they weren't anything but neutral in this conflict! Anything but neutral!

Oh god why do you let this happen?!

After taking the fount, they all turned those little chompski faces to the door of my house, oh god, oh god, oh god! they're everyday 1.5 centimeters closer to it!

Help! Police! The lawn gnomes want to take my house! You, police woman, please help me, the gnomes are trying to conquer my house and probably kill me, and I don't have enough firepower to stop them!

What, why do you look at me like that..? Don't you believe me? Ah.. right, but don't you know that there's anything better than officer boobs to calm down a man scared by gnomes?